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“Me too.”
The server returned with their drinks, allowing them to toast new beginnings.
When they were alone, Stephen had to broach the other topic on his mind.
“Are you still being followed?”
Ehren sighed and frowned at his drink for a couple of seconds before finally nodding. “I think so. I haven’t seen the original guy since Red Rocks, but I think I spotted a new guy yesterday and then again on my walk here.”
“The police?”
The adorable man was already shaking his head. “I haven’t heard anything new, really. They confirmed that they didn’t get anything from the fingerprints they took and they’ve got no leads at the moment. Apparently there have been no break-ins at the other condos in my building. Have you heard anything from your friends?”
Stephen shook his head. “Nothing helpful, but I’ll message Ed tonight. They’ve been in Ankara for a week. They had to have turned up something. Or at least the absence of information has to mean something, right?”
Ehren snorted. “Your guess is as good as mine. None of this has made sense to me.”
“Have you noticed anything missing that maybe you didn’t that first night?”
Ehren shook his head. He picked up his wineglass and took a sip. “No. I’ve gone through every inch of my luggage and carry-on to make sure someone didn’t slip an item into it when the luggage was being handled by the airline or some ridiculous spy shit. Nothing.” He reached out and lifted up a small leather-bound book he’d been carrying with him as he approached the restaurant. “This is all I took with me besides papers from the attorney.”
Stephen accepted the journal and slowly flipped through the worn yellow pages filled with tiny, cramped writing. There was a faint hint of tobacco and some exotic spice that clung to the pages.
“This is one of your uncle’s journals?”
Ehren nodded. “I brought back three. I’ve read two of them, and there’s nothing really interesting that I’ve found. Gallery openings, exhibits, commentary on his annoying neighbors.” He motioned to the one in Stephen’s hands. “That’s the most recent one. I haven’t finished reading it yet. I brought it in case you got caught in traffic.”
Stephen squeezed Ehren’s hand and smiled. “Nothing was going to keep me from being on time for this date.”
With a huffed laugh, Ehren grabbed his wine and took another sip. “Goofy man.” But it was said with such warmth and affection.
Reluctantly, Stephen released Ehren’s hand so he could more slowly flip through the journal. Something about it was nagging at him. He flipped to the end, rubbing his thumb over the interior of the end of the book. The leather cover bent easily like a paperback. The interior paper seemed newer than the main pages of the book, definitely less worn. There were none of markings he would expect for a book of this age and use.
He flipped to the front to find that same newer paper there as well. It was like Yusuf had put a new interior binding in the book, which was strange since it was simply a journal.
“You mentioned that your uncle did book restoration, right?”
“Yes, that was his specialty. He loved old books.”
Stephen opened the journal to the front page and turned toward Ehren. “Is it just me, or did he rebind this journal too?”
Ehren accepted it and nodded. “I thought that as well when I was looking at it. This is the only journal he did it to. I thought maybe it had fallen apart on him while he was still filling the pages. I—” Ehren broke off as he was flipping through the pages and returned to the front cover. He ran his finger over the same spot again and again. “There’s something here.”
Stephen grabbed his unused knife and held it out handle first to Ehren. “Here. See if you can use this to separate the cover from that interior page. Maybe he hid something in the book.”
An excited smile spread across Ehren’s face as he moved his wineglass and utensils out of his way. Stephen’s heart was racing as he watched Ehren carefully work the tip of the knife between the leather and the thick piece of paper that covered it and connected the leather to the bundle of pages. This was like a treasure hunt.
Bit by bit, Ehren carefully worked the paper away to reveal a piece of cardboard that had been placed under it. But a precise opening had been cut so a key could be inset into the cardboard. That insert made it hard to feel the key hidden in the cover unless you were specifically searching for something.
“Holy shit,” Ehren breathed, holding the key up so Stephen could see it.
Stephen grabbed his wine and drained half the glass as he stared at it. “I wonder if that’s what your robber was seeking.”
